We have a resplendent Rooster and a sweet little Hen. Rooster and Hen are very much in love and are always together, scratching, sunbathing and resting with their heads balanced together. They sleep up high in their Hen House Cathedral with Hen squashed up against the wall and Rooster positioned on the outside of her guarding her. Quite devoted they are to each other.
Anyway, a neighbour noticed that she hadn’t seen the hen out and about at all. The neighbours are all worried about foxes as they should be but I have decided to be controversial and avoid chicken coups as they seem to be nothing more than chicken death traps to me as most of the ‘Fox got the Chickens’ stories that I hear, involve a chicken coup. So far so good. They live totally free range with no clipped wings etc.
I checked the Cathedral … yes the Hen was there on her nesting box. But horror of horrors it looked like she had passed away. Or was about to. She had a strange look in her eye …. was still to the point of catatonia and would not take food or water. I did my chicken cluck to her and she weakly clucked back. Her death cluck I thought. I was shocked and horrified. What awful calamity has struck her .. cancer, a stuck egg, massive internal ….! What sticky mess would I find beneath her. I did not think she would make it through the night. And it was cold … should I take her a hot water bottle? I did lock the Cathedral door that night and wondered what I would find the next day. Would Riga mortis have set in? So with dread the next morning I garnered some courage and checked it out. Yip dead … eyes open (no blinking) …. not moving … head resting into the body (head upright though!!) clearly dead as a dodo.
What to do? I was picking up the children later in the day. Do I remove the carcass now? No (I wimped out) … I knew that children would be far braver and better dealing with these matters then me. I had told them she didn’t look well the day before so they were a little prepared.
I picked children up and with tears in my eyes shared that their delightful sweet lovely little egg laying hen had passed away peacefully on her nesting box. I said that I had left her there as I knew they would want to see her and as we drove and talked they planned the burial. Oscar would do the manly job of digging the grave, Abigail would collect flowers for a mandala and paint to colour some stones that would mark the spot. Alex who the little hen belonged to would lead the procession and all actions and decision would be approved by him first.
Well we arrived home and they all led by the youngest Alexander went to have a look. ‘Mum’, Abigail cried … she’s alive… she’s breathing. But I think she is close to death. OMG I come running out. ‘Now way’ I say feeling a little foolish and also thinking if she is going to die could she just do it quickly please!!!
She still looked thoroughly catatonic. ‘Someone’ I say, ‘needs to pick her up and see what is happening underneath her?’ Never one to cower behind my children of course!! I wait for a volunteer. Well if no one wants to I will I say. Abigail always up for a challenge volunteers. She kneels down quietly and gently and lifts her up with a little weak resistance from the Hen. There is nothing but two very clean little eggs under her. Phew! And as she is handled a bit she starts to wake up a bit and we come to see that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her and that she is very much alive. I am jubilant and so so happy. I realise I need to URGENTLY google broody chickens.
Aaah … it all starts to make sense. Broody hens sit on their eggs all day and night with maybe one or two trips for water food etc. So no wonder she looked different. Her broodiness has switched her system from doing to zen like being. She is on the most basic survival mode so that she can simply hatch her eggs.
Bless her little Hen motherly heart!!!!
Interesting Times 